The Spirit Seducer (The Echo Series Book 1) (17 page)

His hurt slithered up into me, swelling my own.

The wind whipped my hair into my face; I brushed it back with impatient fingers. I needed to see his eyes. “Please. Don’t shut me out of this. What happened, Zeke?”

“I—you need to leave,” he said, his voice filled with frustration. Fear poured off him and slid over me. Fear for me, not himself. “You have to stay safe. That’s all I can give you.”

“Why did my headaches get worse?”

“Because I kissed you!” He turned from me, his hands gripping his hair. “You were so sad, and I knew I shouldn’t approach you again, but I hated seeing you like that.”

I darted toward him as he tried to stalk away again.

“There isn’t time for this, Echo. I have to fight them off. I have to—”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my body flush to his. He inhaled, almost a sob. Then my lips found his.

His lips were soft and warm. I held still, waiting. My heart stuttered as electric pleasure shot downward into my limbs. Then his arms were around me like I almost remembered, wrapping me up in the embrace I’d craved.

He slanted my head so he could kiss me deeper, and I flexed my fingers in the short strands of his hair.

And the dam burst, my head exploding with memories. So many memories. Of Zeke.

* * *

I
’d been thirteen
, nearly fourteen, and he was tall, broad. He would’ve been seventeen, eighteen. He stood over the carcass of some large demon, its body slowly reverting to sand. It sparkled, much like the clouds I’d seen these past few days.

I’d gone out the back fence toward the acequia—a narrow ditch that ran behind our house. I’d built a fort there, filled it with some dried corn. I’d decided to try a calling ceremony like the ones I’d read about. Instead of a god, I’d gotten the hellhound. Its breath bathed my face, hot and putrid.

I’d been too scared to cry, to call out. But Zeke charged into the cramped space anyway, blades flashing. He’d slaughtered the beast with an efficient thrust of his spear.

I’d stood there in awe, shocked by both his beauty and his fighting prowess. Instinctively, I held out my hand, whispering, “Thank you.” He’d taken my hand, his callused palm more than twice the size of mine. He’d held it all the way to my back door.

Just before he knocked, I threw myself into his arms. He’d held me, his cheek against my hair.

My mom found us like that. To say she wasn’t happy was an understatement.

“I’ll talk to you later,” she snapped at Zeke.

“There was a hellhound. I need to be closer.”

“You need to do your job,” Mom snapped. Her face softened as she looked from me to Zeke. “She’s too young, Zeke. Please, respect my concern.”

Next time I saw him, I was seventeen. I stood next to my mom’s car—the car I wasn’t supposed to have a license to drive. I did. In a fit of rebellion, I’d walked to a DMV with Layla. Zeke had had to save us from the demons that’d followed us.

“Thank you for saving me. Again,” I’d said. “My mom’s going to be angry. For everything today.”

“You remember me?” he asked. His mouth drifted up in a smile and I’d caught my breath.

I’d learned the meaning of the word
yearn
that afternoon. I wanted Zeke to smile at me. To pull me in close enough so his scent filled my nose and head. I wanted to hold his hand, to lie on my bed and consider the dark beauty of his eyes.

My mother stormed from the house, cursing at us in Spanish and English.

I hadn’t seen Zeke again until just before my twentieth birthday, when he kissed me for the first time. His mouth met mine as he whispered his fingers across my cheekbones, memorizing my feel, my smell, my taste.

Our lips clung together for a second before we parted. Holding me, he waited for me to support my own weight.

* * *

“
W
e’ve done that before
.”

“Yes,” he said, his long lashes hiding his eyes from mine. “You walked to The Plaza and a kachina followed you. I killed it.”

“And I saw you. Behind the Loretto Chapel.”

“I still can’t believe you didn’t run,” he dropped his forehead to mine. “You had to be scared.”

I pulled him closer. “I’ve always felt safe with you, Zeke. Always.”

He picked up my right hand and kissed my palm. My fingers curled tight around the lingering heat left from his kiss.

“You shouldn’t. My dad’s a monster, Echo.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

The wind whipped my long hair into both our faces. He looked up at me, his gaze stark. His brow lowered.

“If you’re safe, I’ll be able to focus better. Please, Echo. I need you to go.”

I stepped back, forcing myself away from his warmth. My lips trembled but I locked them tight. Then I threw myself into his arms, my head cushioned against his cotton-and-leather armor. “You’ll find me?”

His pulled his eyes from the shapes coalescing in the clouds long enough to look at me. The heat and need in his dark eyes had to match my own. “Always.”

I ran back to the house in time to feel the whole building shudder. Layla gripped my hand and pulled me farther into its dubious safety.

“Should we go out to the portal?”

“Too late,” she said, peering out the back window. “We’re surrounded.”

“Zeke?” I whispered, darting to the large glass-fronted door. He stood in the yard, legs braced, spear in his left hand, and sword in the right. His back was straight, his chin at an arrogant angle.

Layla’s eyes shifted to the ceiling.

“Jaguar will come. The cloud is his favorite mode of transport. Coyote can just show up.”

“So no sisterly bond with Shakola?” I asked.

Layla snorted. “Jaguar said she’s the one who pointed me out. Though, to be fair, she thought I was Sotuk’s daughter, then.”

Those weird, pupil-less eyes. The hard, regal planes of her face. “She hoped Jaguar would kill me to get to my magic?”

“There is a kind of logic there. Simple disposal of a problem. And make no mistake, E, we are a problem.”

I sighed. My worry for Zeke escalated as I pondered the enemies I’d never known I had.

“I’m not sure power or an ancient relic is worth all this destruction.”

“Shakola isn’t the main threat at the moment. Not even close. Jaguar’s more likely to rip us apart to get the tablet,” Layla said. “He wants to rule us. Probably the gods. There’s tension there—as you’d expect. You can’t treat a group, even the kachina, like second-class citizens forever.”

Something big crashed into the front door. The entire frame groaned.

“Can you call your mom?” I asked. My fingers balled into fists. I could still feel the faintest imprint of Zeke’s lips on my palm. I needed him to make it through this alive.

“I’m not sure she’d help us. The Prophecy of the Four doesn’t appeal to her any more than it resonates with most of the gods.”

“We’re supposed to be saving her world, too,” I said, disgust and anger making my stomach churn.

“But then the gods have to admit to needing us for something. Ain’t gonna happen, E.”

“Just what are we supposed to do?” I asked.

The walls rattled again. I stood immobilized as I spotted a huge, misty pack rat clawing at a nearby window.

“Right now?” Layla asked. “Grab the tablet. We’re out.”

My stomach pitched and my burrito tried to come back up. I swallowed it down with effort.

“I don’t know where it is,” I whispered. “I—I dropped it when I got here. Zeke said—”

“We can’t leave it here,” she cried. Her back was against the door that was jumping in its frame. “Find it. Now!”

I ran across the living room, peering under the sofa and chairs. Nothing. So much of last night was a blur after Zeke had brought me back here. I knew I’d held the tablet to my chest while Zeke transported us away from Coyote.

Zeke had told me to run. He hadn’t said anything about the tablet.

I ran to his bedroom and looked under the bed as the wind howled over the house, causing the structure to quake.

“I don’t see it!” I cried. “Why didn’t you ask Zeke about it?”

“Why didn’t you keep it?” she shouted back.

“Gah! How do I find it?”

“I don’t know,” Layla yelled, her voice tense.

“Need more than that,” I muttered as I looked under the chest of drawers.

“It has magic. You have magic. Connect with it, I guess. Oh, shit! Hurry.”

I glanced out the window in time to see another funnel cloud ripping through the yard. These warrior spirits were more destructive than a group of two-year-olds hopped up on sugar and left alone on a playground. And there were more of them now. At least ten.

“Zeke?” I whispered, hoping he’d kept open the connection to my head.

Nothing. Either he was too busy to respond or . . . No, I wouldn’t think that.

A heavy body slammed into the bedroom window, and the large jaws of a jaguar ripped at the glass. He snarled death threats.

I staggered back, shaking my finger at the thing. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

He hissed, his long yellow teeth gleaming in the sunlight.

“I’m ripping you apart so you can never regenerate. Consider yourself warned.”

Jaguar’s hands pounded until fissures spider-webbed in the glass. He pounded the windows again.

“E! Let’s get this done. There are a whole lotta demons now.”

“Is there some spell or something that locates holy relics?”

“You’re not a fucking witch! Find the tablet
now
.”

Jaguar slammed his shoulder into the window, and some of the glass tinkled as it hit the floor. Good thing the windows were double paned.

Every article of clothing from the dresser was on the floor, and a bra clung to the rhinestones on my sandal. I shook my foot before moving toward the closet while I tried not to freak out at the thought of being stuck in there when Jaguar broke through.

I pulled up the shoe rack and dumped every pair of Zeke’s boots on the floor. I found a pair of hiking boots in my size. Layla was right; I really should change my shoes into better fighting footwear. Jaguar’s body slammed the window again. Glass sprayed across the floor.

Nope, no time for better shoes.

I left Zeke’s closet looking like Jaguar had already been there, and moved toward the bed. Jaguar’s fists pounded against the windowpane.

“I really hate you!” I snapped as Jaguar renewed his efforts, slamming his massive shoulder into the fractured glass.

I yanked off the comforter and the sheet. Something thudded at my foot.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered. Zeke had placed the relic right next to my pillow. I pulled it from the tangled sheets, and Jaguar howled. His rage was so intense, the house heaved.

Jaguar pounded harder and the window shattered. Thankfully, it didn’t fall. The screen bent, giving him some trouble as I vaulted over the bed, the tablet clutched in my arms.

“We’re outta here!” I yelled to Layla, who was standing in the living room, surrounded by five beasts. A jackrabbit pummeled her in the stomach with its hind legs, which would have been a lot funnier if its feet didn’t end in long claws. I swung my fist at its fuzzy face as I ran past, and the demon froze.

“You need to stop them,” Layla panted.

“I don’t know how,” I squealed.

Layla punched the rabbit just as it began to move, laying into it with a really nice hook before kicking the bear into the pack rat. The number of rodents surprised me. No wonder Native American gods didn’t get the same level of respect as the Greeks or even the Egyptians. Rodents were gross, not scary.

Jaguar hurtled down the hall toward us.

“They’re part spirit. You seem to control the spirit world.”

“No, I don’t,” I gasped as I slapped Jaguar. He paused, mid-grimace. Shit, he’d said last night that I did. I slapped again. He didn’t move.

I would have pumped my arms in victory, but the roof over the kitchen caved in, creating a waterfall of beams, plaster and kitchen items.

“You’ve done this before at your mom’s house,” Layla gasped. “Just do it bigger this time.”

Three more kachina—I couldn’t really get past the huge rattlesnake to make out the other two—dropped through the ceiling.